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the simple life

"One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words." Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Thursday, October 21, 2004

4 Draycott Park

Once upon a time, Tuesdays were perfect.

But not before enduring a nauseating cocktail of Keynesian economics, tortuous trigonometry and the amorous leanings of the wif of bath.

A Levels was hell.

And if you don't believe in Hell, you haven't met Anal Agnes, who spoke Chaucer and broke spirits.

Tough. Uncompromising. Unyielding.

And we're only talking about her substantial posterior.

But come face to face with the Breaker of Balls, the Harbinger of Horror and the Tyrant of Terror, let's just say...

It's not a pretty sight.

But not even this Beast of Boredom, this Leecher of Life can stop Tuesdays from being perfect.

(My body may be hers, but never my Spirit)

No matter how bad the day was, a most enchanting evening would begin at 7pm.

I would make my way to 4 Draycott Park, usually with classmate Curator Cheong, who like me, scorned academia but loved cinema.

Those were times unlike today. No Internet, no DVDs, no glut of film festivals and almost no foreign films from Cathay or Shaw.

(For some reason, I have never considered Hong Kong films foreign)

And we were 2 teenage cineasts, with little money to spare.

Ok, maybe things haven't changed that much.

The French were kind enough to offer us a little projection room for 2 hours of pure cinematic magic.

It didn't matter that the room was a little dingy. Or if you were late, you would be seated at the back and missing the subtitles. Or if the print was old and dirty.

Or the motley crew of oddballs that graced the screenings.

What mattered was on the screen.

Over the course of 2 years, I was mesmerized by tales of sordid affairs, crimes of passion, duels and fights, criminals on the run and detectives on a trail.

In these foreign lands, peopled by strange tongues, it was ok to be different, ok to be flawed, ok to be estranged.

Redemption was always within reach, provided you were willing to pay the price.

These were films, unlike any I have ever seen. The cinema was ambiguous, subtle and sublime.

And it helped me make sense of a world of Anal Agnes, stuffy peers and a punishing environment.

When the going got tough, there was always Tuesdays.


Once upon a time, Tuesdays were perfect.

In the morning, I read Economics, Math and Literature.

In the evenings, I had an education.


At 10/22/2004 02:39:00 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hi Isaiah

Isn't 4 Draycott Park a condo in Singapore. So now that you are no longer a student, I presume? Is Tuesday still a good day for you?

I don't have a favourite day. I wish every day is my favourite day, so I don't have to think about day. Just like work=play, play=work. day=life, life=day.

Have a good day mate!


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